


Natural Fluff vs. The Fuckfather Supreme

by AvaCelt



Series: Gintama Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt/pseuds/AvaCelt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Utsuro mulls over his son's recent wedding, Oboro pours coffee, and the Snack shop burns down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Fluff vs. The Fuckfather Supreme

**Author's Note:**

> Written for anon. Originally posted on my [Tumblr writing blog](http://victorsandvanquishers.tumblr.com/) and now being archived here for the A03 writing community.

“His hair is horrendous.”

“It’s natural fluff, Father.”

“Why would he date a merchant capitalist? I thought running a school for underprivileged kids was the epitome of anti-capitalist ventures. Why would he do this?”

“Because he is thirty years old, Father, he can do as he pleases.”

“This is disgusting. I am disgusted. Oboro, aren’t you disgusted?”

“Father, please.”

Utsuro harumphed and took a long, earnest drink of his coffee, coffee that was generously mixed with hazelnut liqueur. “Never in my six thousand years have any of my children betrayed me like this. A capitalist? A bloody capitalist, can you believe this Oboro? And they didn’t even invite me to the wedding!”

“Father, you threatened to castrate the merchant man when you saw him shopping for oranges.”

“Gintoki hates oranges! He hates apples, too!”

“He was getting them for himself, Father. He even had the doctor’s note explaining that oranges could aid in lowering his cholesterol levels.”

“Lies! I won’t have it, Oboro, I won’t have this orange-eating, bushy haired, venture capitalist continue to defile my 789th son!”

“Father, Gintoki is the lecher in the relationship. The merchant man is a virgin.”

Utsuro sputtered a mouthful of coffee on the picnic mat. “What!?”

“He’s been visiting mixed-sex brothels since he was sixteen, Father,” Oboro pointed out. “I believe he’s had seventeen pregnancy scares since then. Three were claimed by Amanto, but luckily, none of them were his.”

Utsuro blinked once before a cloud of melancholy descended upon him. His face darkened and a grim expression etched itself across his unmarred face . “I didn’t raise him like that,” he said ominously, his dull brown eyes reverting to their natural red color.

“Father, you are a part time assassin and a schoolteacher.”

“I gave him morals,” Utsuro muttered darkly, crushing the coffee mug in his hand. His wounds instantly healed, but the blood that poured from the temporary cuts stained the picnic blanket. “I taught him how to cook, how to read, how to count, how to be a moral, humane being in a land full of filth and weakness. I… I EXPECTED BETTER!”

Utsuro slammed his fist down on the picnic blanket and the crows fluttered away at the impact. Oboro sighed and poured another cup of coffee for the blonde man. “You’re not his real dad,” Oboro reminded him.

At that, Utsuro let out a loud screech, which effectively scared the shit out of the Tenshouin Naraku assassins that stood guard near their picnic spot. Oboro cleared his throat and held out the coffee mug to the man shaking with rage.

“He dares tell _me_ I am not his father and that _I_ can’t meet his husband? That I, Utsuro the Immortal, the Fuckfather Supreme, cannot visit for dinner on Sundays? HE DARE TELLS ME THAT?”

“Father, please,” Oboro pleaded once more.

“NO! THIS WILL NOT STAND! GATHER THE TROOPS, OBO-CHAN, WE’RE CRASHING THEIR DOMESTIC BLISS RIGHT THIS SECOND.”

“Please, Father, you are drunk.”

“GATHER THE KHAKKHARAS, YOU HEATHENS, WE’RE GOING DESTROYING!”

Four hours later, Otose’s snack shop sat smoldering in the hot, summer afternoon while Gintoki stood outside the smoking mess in nothing but a pair of pink, strawberry imprinted boxers. Sakamoto breathed into an oxygen mask while Kagura and Shinpachi tried putting out the little fire in his hair. The rest of Kabukichou shook their heads and moved on with their lives because, knowing Sakata Gintoki, this wasn’t the last building pyre the neighborhood  would see this month.

“Your father burned down my building, asshole!” Otose snarled. “Millions of yen in the garbage! Millions!”

“He smelled like alcohol,” Sakamoto slurred, resting on Shinpachi’s lap while Kagura checked his pulse.

Gintoki picked his nose. “He’s not my real dad.”

“The hell he isn’t,” Otose howled. She threw her sandal at his head and didn’t miss.

“Fuck my life,” Gintoki grumbled, nursing the bruise on his forehead. “I was just about to get laid too.”

Later in the evening, Tatsuma snuggled against Gintoki’s chest in the tiny hospital bed. “To be quite honest, this is the most in-lawish thing he’s ever done,” Tatsuma said half-heartily. “Maybe we should invite him to dinner one day, you know, before he burns down the whole city.”

“He hasn’t been in my life for over ten years; he doesn’t get to win,” Gintoki grumbled.

“Just dinner,” Tatsuma insisted and then proceeded to kiss his husband’s cheek. “Just so he doesn’t burn down our home again.”

Gintoki pouted but ultimately relented. “And he was drunk too!”

“Just like you,” Tatsuma hummed.

“I’m only drunk 65% of the time!”

“I know, honey.”

“Hmph.”

“Hmm.”

Far, far away the, Utsuro fell asleep foaming at the mouth while Oboro swept up the mess and retired to his room like a normal person.


End file.
